I saw this quote floating around on Mastodon:
“People speak of hope as if it is this delicate, ephemeral thing made of whispers and spider’s webs. It’s not. Hope has dirt on her face, blood on her knuckles, the grit of the cobblestones in her hair, and just spat out a tooth as she rises for another go.”
That is to say, hope is not something you fight to protect and shelter. Hope is the fight itself
Thanks to Bladdivan, I’m peein’ right now 😏